


The Forever Game

by IStillBelieve



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2068587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IStillBelieve/pseuds/IStillBelieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow after all this time, all these years and miles and galaxies, it's always just the two of them, in the end.  Or 'A Captain and a Doctor walk into a bar...'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Forever Game

The Doctor frowned in what he hoped was a threatening manner at the game table in front of him. It was roughly half the size of a billiards table, but not quite so symmetrical - and by 'not quite' he meant 'nothing whatsoever'; it had corners and nooks and dips and curves and angles that defied Pythagoras (now THERE was a dull bloke but my stars could the man drink!). He glared at the table again. He was a Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm, blah blah blah, surely he was not going to be bested by some futuristic alien version of snooker? He glanced surreptitiously around the bar to see if anyone was observing his awkward first attempt. Most of the denizens seemed intent on further mingling their gene pools, so he felt relatively safe. He let his eyes wander to his left, down the long expanse of the bar, and a jolt of recognition shocked through him. Even in this dim light those deadly blue eyes were still deadly, and flawless good looks still disarmingly flawless. Hello, old friend, he thought, a bit sadly. Always just the two of us, in the end. He started to go over, but his friend appeared as lost in his thoughts as he himself, so he let it go for now. He hadn't been spotted, so he turned back to the task at hand.  
Now then - it seems the ball - well, not so much a ball as a dodecahedron, really, needed to go into the pocketish things in some semblance of order. But what sort? He stroked the cue absently - it was shorter and slightly thicker than a Terran pool cue, with a more pointed tip. Looked useful in a bar fight, he mused, and leaned over the table to make his first shot. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Jaded, Jack Harness thought as he gazed around the bar. I am just jaded. SO much here and nothing catches my - hello.....at one of the gaming tables across the room the sole player was looking his way. Younger than himself, male, lean, tight body. Longish hipster hair flopping lazily into eye, eyes the color of river stones, warm greyish green, eyes that flickered across his own, then back. Bingo. The eyes narrowed slightly, then a hint of a mischievous grin played about them and settled on the most luscious kissable lips.....yum. Perfect bow shaped upper lip, and a bottom lip that screamed to be licked. Oh yeah.....  
Huh. To Jack's surprise the man turned back to his game, no lingering glance or flirting. He sighed softly. Was he losing it? Nah. Straight then? Not a problem. Spaghetti was straight, too, until it got hot enough. And he would kill to see more of that grin, even if it was telling him to get lost. Jack downed his drink and sauntered across the room, all sex and swagger. From the rear his target was equally charming - archaic wool trousers that cupped his taut bottom flawlessly, crisp beige shirt sleeves cuffed halfway up long lean forearms, that deliciously thick hair - his fingers were twitching to lose themselves in that hair.  
He was muttering to himself - "Okay, okay, well then - this shouldn't be that hard, I'm a freaking genius, it should not be this hard." Not yet, anyway, thought Jack with a trademark smirk, and moved in.  
The Doctor felt his body temperature climb suddenly, and there it was - there HE was; long, strong body almost touching his, large capable hand covering his on the cue, and, too close to his ear, a husky murmur designed to hit in all the right places - "It's all in the way you grip the stick...may I?" Oh, Jack, the Doctor grinned to himself. Glad you didn't disappoint me.  
"Could you possibly move your hand?" he said politely, and the hand holding his loosened immediately. "Ummm, yeah, the other one", he added dryly, referring to the hand casually resting on his ass, fingertips accidentally brushing across the center seam of his trousers (causing, the Doctor was surprised to note, quite a lovely tingle).  
"Oh, that hand", and Jack obliged slowly - S-L-O-W-L-Y, moving his hand to a more respectable distance. "Busted", he grinned. Jack was really in a win-win situation here; The young man in front of him could A) continue to lean over the gaming table, providing Jack with more viewing and pressing-up-against opportunities; he could B) straighten up, allowing for full-on rear pressage, or C) he could turn around in the VERY limited space Jack had provided, opening the door for some splendid and intimate full-frontal contact and a better look at that delectable mouth.  
The target chose an option that Jack had not considered, which both surprised and delighted him no end - adorable AND resourceful. He did indeed turn to face Jack, but simultaneously hopped backwards so that he was sitting on the wide ledge of the game table, the long length of his thighs now separating their bodies. "Well played", Jack grinned. "Jack Harkness. And you are...."  
Ahhhh. The Doctor's mind synced up with reality instantly. Jack hadn't seen this regeneration yet. He had no idea who he was - priceless. Game on. He held out a hand to Jack (his hands, he felt, were one of the high points of this body - long, agile, nimble, graceful but strong - lovely hands. He should model watches). "John. John Smith", he said. Jack took the offered hand, shook it firmly, and held on. He began to idly stroke the back with his thumb.  
"John Smith. Really."  
"No. Not really, but it doesn't matter, does it?"  
"Nope", Jack grinned his wicked best. "No, I guess it doesn't." The Doctor found himself inexplicably mesmerized by the very masculine thumb sweeping slow circles on the back of his hand. He hadn't expected it to feel this good, flirting with Jack again. He didn't feel like the man solely responsible for worlds and planets and the fate of millions; at this moment he just felt slightly naughty and wanted - desired. Desirable. Not something he felt very often, usually just when he and River intersected.  
He realized Jack was watching him as he watched Jack's errant thumb send shivers up his arm. His forearm suddenly broke out in goosebumps; Jack noticed, of course, and took a step closer. "Nice", he murmured. "So nice, so responsive." The Doctor had the grace to blush slightly. "Come here often?" Jack quipped.  
"Come here often?" The Doctor snorted. "Is that the best you've got? Seriously?!?"  
Jack laughed at him, delighted, and opened the Doctor's hand to stroke his palm with a fingertip, which elicited a small gasp The Doctor was too late to hide. "No, but does it matter?" he gave the Doctor's response back to him.  
"Touche, Captain Jack Harkness." Ahhh, thought Jack, he was smart, too. Smart and adorable. Gods, he loved smart men (and women). Ever since meeting the Doctor, intellect had become a major aphrodis - wait.  
"You called me Captain." Oh shit. The Doctor realized immediately what he had done. "I - uh - I - the - uniform?"  
"Not wearing a uniform." Shit. "And I didn't say Captain, did I?" The lovely stroking had stopped. So had the smile.  
"Nope. I guess - I guess you didn't, then."  
"You know me." Jack's gripped tightened on the Doctor's hand.  
"Yes. I know you. Have done for years. And you know me."  
"I don't think I - "  
"Not this me. Tall, gangly fellow - spiky hair. Wore sexy glasses just for effect? Said (in best 10 voice) 'Stop it' a lot? Drove a big blue - " the Doctor found himself in the air, feet completely off the ground, engulfed in a warm, wonderful, all-encompassing Captain Jack hug,  
"Fucking incredible!" Jack laughed out loud, a glorious sound. "The Doctor! THE Doctor! MY Doctor!" He laughed again. "And -" he put his lips close to the doctor's ear "- and you're freaking adorable," in his best panty-melting tones. The combination of hot breath, slight brush of lips and throaty murmur went through the Doctor like warmed whiskey. Ooh, this body was loads more fun than the last one he thought as he felt himself harden slightly against Jack's solid frame.  
Jack felt it as well, and hugged tighter. "You are happy to see me, aren't 'cha, Doc?" The Doctor felt his face grow warm.  
"Do you think you might - oh, I don't know - put me down? You're causing a spectacle." "Do you think you might - oh, I don't know - put me down? You're causing a spectacle." Jack obligingly let the Doctor slide down his body a couple of inches until his feet found the floor.  
"No, I'm not. No one is looking at us - at all. This is an intergalactic pick-up bar (which, by the way, we need to discuss why you are at an Intergalactic pick-up bar). We are probably the two most vanilla beings here."  
"Speak for yourself", the Doctor smirked.  
"Doctor! Are YOU flirting with - me? Wow. I think I like this you." Blue eyes met grey in a moment that held years and galaxies of memories between them. The Doctor felt dizzy, giddy and deliciously wicked; Jack felt like he was home. He raised his hand and gently plucked a strand of the Doctor's bangs between his first two fingers. He toyed with it idly, fascinated by the soft brown swoop. He continued to play with the Doctor's hair and dropped his eyes to that mouth. Fuck. Those juicy sweet lips. Attached to THE DOCTOR. He traced them with his eyes, slowly, intently, focusing hundreds of years of seduction on those lips. He used his eyes as a physical thing, an infinite touch, stroking the outline, lingering on the full center. When the Doctor involuntarily flicked his tongue out once, then again, bathing his bottom lip nervously, Jack smiled. He laid his hand softly on the side of the Doctor's face, stroking his lovely cheekbone with his thumb. He slid his thumb closer to the Doctor's mouth, caressing his face. Jack raked his eyes across his intended target again and to his joyous disbelief he heard a tiny, almost imperceptible whimper. His eyes went immediately to the Doctor's to find them half closed, watching him under heavy lids. The heat of a thousand stars burned from them.  
"Oh, fuck," Jack groaned aloud. He used the ball of his thumb to swipe across the Doctor's lower lip, and it was HIS turn to groan.  
"Jack - "  
"Shhhh", Jack murmured, lowering his head slowly, eyes never leaving the Doctor's. "Shhhh." His breath joined his thumb caressing that full mouth. "I'm working here."  
"Jack, I - "  
"Hush," he said firmly. "I've kissed you before, you know."  
"Yes, but not THIS me! And not - not like this", his voice dropped, almost timid.  
"Like what?" Jack murmured silkily, his lips skating inches above the Doctor's. This one's sexy shyness, this wicked innocence, was going to kill him, if anything ever could. It was perfect.  
"You kissed me before as a friend, or just a flirt. Not like -" another shy pause - "not like you WANTED me."  
"Doc", Jack whispered, lips now a paper's width away," I have always wanted you." He stroked the Doctor's lips apart with a thumb, then gently slipped it inside his lower lip, teasing his mouth open. Another full-out whimper followed, then an almost inaudible  
"Please," and Jack was undone. "Please Jack, fucking hell, please, just - " and Jack place both large hands on the Doctor's face, thumbs lightly pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Please", this last one almost silent, and Jack smiled against the Doctor's mouth, then sucked that glorious bottom lip into his own mouth. The Doctor's eyes fell closed as Jack sucked sweetly on his lip, then traced it with his tongue. He licked and teased until he was rewarded with a throaty groan.  
Suddenly hands were flat against his chest, clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer, and Jack pulled his mouth back a centimeter.  
"Yeah?" he breathed wickedly against wet lips.  
"Ohh, yeah," the Doctor replied huskily, and Jack dove in. He sucked the Doctor's lips into his own, stroked them open with his tongue, and plunged his way home.  
And they kissed. They kissed until the room spun and stars flashed and the Doctor was moaning steadily and Jack was hard enough to pierce wood. The Doctor's hands stayed firmly against Jack's chest, fingers clutched lightly in his braces. Jack's warm hands held his friend's new face gently, thumbs caressing the skin alongside the mouth he plundered.  
They kissed, and it was good. Good, and right. Nothing had felt this right since - Ianto. The Doctor tasted of rain and stars and cinnamon, new and fresh and ancient and holy. Jack Harkness quenched a hundred years of thirst in this beautiful mouth -  
\- which was slowly being dragged away. The Doctor's breathing was ragged and his pulse pounding visibly in his throat. He rested his forehead against Jack's. "We - we should stop", he muttered between gulps of air.  
"No", said Jack." We should never stop." He tilted his mouth back down to capture the Doctor's lips again. He turned his head away.  
"Jack, no - if - if you don't stop kissing me like that, you'll have me - I'm going to - well. I don't really think either of us want the end of thousands of years of unresolved sexual tension to climax with me coming in my pants like a schoolboy, yeah?" Jack huffed a surprised laugh. he was at once charmed and turned on by the Doctor's bluntness.  
"Not this time," he grinned. "Not gonna take it off the table, though." He pressed his lips to the Doctor's wide forehead. "So - you could - just from kissing? Wow."  
"The way you were kissing me? Oh, yeah."  
"How was I kissing you?" Jack asked, amused. "That's just - how I kiss. How I always kiss."  
"No, it's not. I know you, remember? You were kissing me like I was - necessary." He flushed, but kept going. "Like I was - yours." Jack felt his heart break a little bit.  
"Oh, but you are. You are mine - MY doctor. You are the one I was waiting for, aren't you?"  
The Doctor pulled back enough to meet those glorious blue eyes. "Then take me home and show me," he said simply.  
And he did.


End file.
